“Daniel, tell them this is ridiculous.”
The board member looked at her bracelet.
“Company card?”
She covered her wrist too late. Evelyn rose, shaking with anger.
“You cannot do this to my son.”
I stood too. For years, I had made myself smaller so Daniel could feel powerful. I had softened my words, swallowed insults, and smiled while Evelyn introduced me as “Daniel’s little wife.” But grief had burned away the softness. What remained was clean steel.
“I can,” I said. “Because the original investment contract gives me controlling authority in cases of fraud. You signed as witness, Evelyn.”
Her mouth opened. No sound came out. Daniel looked at his mother.
“You said that clause didn’t matter.”
“It didn’t,” she whispered.
“It does,” I said.
Celeste stepped back from the table.
“I didn’t know about company funds.”
I looked at her.
“You sent Daniel a list titled ‘things she owes us after the divorce.’ You included my grandmother’s emerald ring.”
Her lips parted. Daniel stared at Celeste. That was the sweetest moment. Not the exposure. Not the frozen accounts. That tiny crack between two greedy people who had mistaken each other for loyalty.
“You promised me Paris,” Celeste hissed at him.
Daniel laughed once, ugly and broken.
“My accounts are frozen.”
“Your personal accounts,” Marcus corrected. “Business accounts too. And the apartment lease in Miss Vale’s name is now under review as a misappropriated asset.”
Celeste sank back into her chair. Evelyn gripped the table.
“Claire, please. We’re family.”
I looked at her hands. Same pearls. Same claws.
“No,” I said. “Family doesn’t sharpen knives and ask you to call it dinner.”
Daniel’s face twisted.
“I loved you once.”
For complete preparation instructions, go to the next page or click the Open button (>). Don't forget to SHARE with your friends on Facebook.
